Final Fantasy: Bleak Dawn
by Circumventing
Summary: Two worlds are colliding into one another, causing political, social, and physical catastrophe. Dell was an ordinary slave in the world of Ecilavi of the light, until it is discovered that she is the chosen womb for The Hero of Dawn's heir. On the day they are to be married, however, an end-of-the-world cult attacks from the world of Aiag of the dark. In the commotion, Dell...
1. Foreword

Two worlds are colliding into one another, causing political, social, and physical catastrophe.

Dell was an ordinary slave in the world of Ecilavi of the light, until it is discovered that she is the chosen womb for The Hero of Dawn's heir. On the day they are to be married, however, an end-of-the-world cult attacks from the world of Aiag of the dark. In the commotion, Dell escapes and finds herself joining a group of five renegades.

The goal? Stop the two worlds from merging before both planets are destroyed.

***Cover by me***

***Updated Daily***

***Final Fantasy OC***

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	2. Chapter One

"Xiandra, my queen... Our men cannot withstand the dark forces. We must stand down!"

"We know you are waiting for the hero, but those legends are just fairytales. Our people are dying!"

"Please, Your Majesty, guide us!"

If Ecilavi were a chessboard, all her pieces would have been burned to ashes.

Xiandra sat on her throne, hands trembling as she listened to her advisers panic on their current affairs. Sweat dripped down the sides of her pure skin, and her eyes looked outward to an inner realm for guidance of a power she had not attained. Every terrified word that uttered into the room tore at her chest and left her naked in a room filled with judging eyes. Vulnerable. Helpless. Everything she had planned had been crushed. Her only possible hope was in the validity of the stories her late father used to tell her before bed— ones that everyone wished her to forsaken.

But why?

She was Xiandra, and this was Ecilavi. The great king of the Underworld had been resurrected and was laying waste to the land of the gods. Yet, there was no hero, not even the royal power that was promised to its members. It was as if the gods had abandoned her in the middle of a barren land and surrounded her with ravenous animals.

With one final gulp, she stood from her throne and descended its stairs. She ambled passed her advisers and guards alike until she reached the balcony that overlooked her land in its entirety. Dark, billowing clouds hung swallowed the sky, blotting out the light. Smoke and ash enveloped all of the plains that stretched out into the horizon— the mountains in that pile of sky and land. Black Lily City that surrounded the castle was empty and colorless beneath the looming death.

Her people were suffering, but it was of her own doing: these legends were just that... Stories. Fairy tales. This was real life, and real war, in which fairness and valiant rescues were lost gems. She could not win against the underworld god.

She had to surrender.

Dell was only ten years old, but she remembered that day as clear as the look of turmoil on the queen's face. Ecilavi was lost to the god of the underworld, Mora Shor, and for a time the people were subjugated to war, famine, natural disasters, fire from the skies, and despair. Dell watched it all through the windows of a castle beneath Mora Shor's iron fist.

She had been a slave to the royal family all her life, but she had never felt more free in her life than those five years under the rule of the god of the underworld. She saw first-hand what not one of the other people in Ecilavi did of the king: a tortured soul enacting revenge on the damned in grief for a tender heart that had been broken.

And Dell loved the king, and she hated him. When she looked outside her window at the world suffering under his reign, a sky once magnificent and radiant now tainted black and ever-looming like a dark omen, she wanted to march into his throne and pummel him; yet, when she was with him as his personal servant and closest confidant, she felt as if she had the father she was never given.

For hours, the two would sit in his throne room and speak about everything and nothing at all. He treated her as more than a slave; no, they weren't equal, and he didn't pretend that they were, but he trusted her, _knew_ her, and he called her "friend". Mora made sure none of the castle residents mistreated her. He gave her proper clothes and meals, a more comfortable place to rest her head than a stone floor. More than anything, he gave her a voice.

Regardless of how she felt for him, however, a day came when the hero from the legends did rise, and Ecilavi was saved from the clutches of the god of the underworld. That hero's name was Kanil, and, aided by the gods and accompanied by a rogue Joy— a summoning spirit— named Reoga, he destroyed the king and set the world free. They had survived the times of legend.

Ah, but, "The Time of Legend" is not what their story is about. It is what happened three years after that set the stage for a new era— one far more twisted and volatile as the last. It was the year that the world truly began to end.


End file.
